Jason Jason Todd
by kaoya
Summary: Jason is back in Gotham, and Cass is the one that stumbles into him. Not much romance, but a precursor to future drabbles. Brief cameos from Oracle/Babs and Tim/Red Robin.


She could feel eyes on her, burning holes through the black sheen of her suit. What was he doing here? she wondered, cocking her head in silent voice to the thought.

_Jason. Jason Todd._

The name came unbidden to the forefront of her mind. Familiar and yet unfamiliar. She knew it was him without a doubt though, regardless that it was the first time she had laid eyes on him. _Living_ him, at least. Bruce had made sure of that much and Cassandra's memory was not one to forget a face, even one that was hidden behind a mask.

Rain pitter-pattered on slate rooftops. Gotham was, as ever, a dreary grey. So different to Hong Kong with its blinding lights and roaring streets - and yet, under the downpour, everything gleamed and dribbled like it did anywhere else. Faceless buildings. Silent houses. The rain concealed it all like a second skin.

"You're alive." It's an obvious fact and Cass knows it. Despite her infamous retardation in articulation, the words come out as quickly as they form in her mind before she can stop them. Words were tricky like that. Intangible with nothing you could get a good grasp on if you weren't careful. Words could have a mind of their own.

She never did like them.

She scuffs her boot tentatively against the slick tiles under her sole. Slippery. Wet.

The figure across from her makes an impatient sound. It's faint and, perhaps, not something he'd expected to be heard but a lifetime of playing the mute has trained Cass' ears to prick up at every whisper, moan and whine. Even the faintest of breaths couldn't get past her.

"_Idiot_," he says.

Reassured by the weight of her batarang against her thigh, Cass shifts her stance. She must be ready at any moment. Memories of Bruce looming over as he makes her watch recorded videos of her predecessors' training runs through her mind.

Dick, Tim - hell, even Steph. Faces flash across the screen, limbs swinging to and fro. Young bodies were so supple, so malleable and lightning quick. No wonder he always chose children.

She remembers Bruce tensing up. He hides it well, almost perfectly, but she expects that he has never met someone like herself. A body reader. His guise is incomplete. It is here that another robin; red and yellow fabric swirling across the jittery screen, somersaults into the training room.

_Jason. Jason Todd._

It was the only explanation Bruce had ever given her, and the training video was shortly switched off with Cass ushered off to do some exercises on her own. But she had seen his reaction however brief. She had seen the old costume standing in line with its brothers and sisters, untouched and immaculate in its glass case. And, more importantly, she had Tim; chatty and magnanimous.

Of course Cass knew.

And yet here he was, alive and standing before her. His mask glinted; like a crimson star beaming in the night. It was hard to miss him. She wondered if that was the intent.

"Let me guess. A new recruit?" His voice, deep with a metallic tang brought her back from her reverie. "Don't tell me the old Batgirl kicked the bucket too?"

This last bit he says with some amusement but she knows that he doesn't believe the notion for one second. Distraction. He was easy to read. Too easy? Cass wondered, eyes locked on the red masked man.

When it's clear that there was no reply forthcoming, the Red Hood shrugs and continues on. He brandishes his firearms with relative ease, twisting the pistol around his finger with a deceptively casual grace.

"Bruce was always the predictable sap. I bet I can guess everything about you - just from seeing you in that suit." He grins.

"Folks're dead, that's_ numero uno_. So, orphaned from birth? Tick! Big old daddy Bats found you scampering around the streets and you, what, do one good turn for him and suddenly you're under his cape? Tick!" He scoffs at this as he continues to toy with his gun.

He was right, but he was also wrong. Her parents were alive; both of them. Much to the dismay of the rest of the law abiding world. Lady Shiva and David Cain; both deadly assassins. She was never an orphan. And if Bruce did find her wandering the streets, it was because she had chosen to flee there instead of following in her parents' footsteps.

Everything up 'til this point Cassandra Cain had chosen. She was not fate's hapless victim, but all the same hadn't Bruce saved her in his own way?

The Red Hood continued on, his voice a lazy drawl as his words punctured the air with surety. He talked a lot, for someone that had been dead and silent for so long. But there was bitterness in his tone, for all that he tried to conceal it. There was bitterness too, lingering in the lines of his body. Even though this was their first time meeting, it seemed that the symbol that adorned her breast was enough for said bitterness to be aimed at her especially.

Cass let his words flow over her like the rain that ran in sheets down her suit. She wondered what it was she should do with this man who could have been her brother; who _technically_ still was.

Wasn't he?

Tim was her brother. She'd seen him cry as he had seen her; wiped both tears and blood from his skin. They had mourned together, just as much as they had celebrated. She had wrapped his limbs in bandages, listened to his fears and hopes. She remembered late nights in front of the TV, popcorn spilling from their laps as they sat huddled together beneath blankets like human cocoons before nodding off to sleep and waking up with her head nestled snugly against his shoulder. Such thoughts gave her a warmth that told her this was family.

But Jason... Jason Todd... There was nothing between them to make her warm; no fondness or camaraderie. Who was he then, to her? What was she to do?

She had stumbled across him by sheer chance. There had been gunshots, she had followed. Men had died - bad men with their guns still hot and heavy with bullets lying in their cold hands. Their bodies riddled with bullet holes, bones broken, flesh bruised. They were bad men, belonging to a gang that dealt in the usual drug rings and weapons hoarding but they did not deserve death.

This was how she had found him then, her long lost brother. He had been cocky. He'd made little effort of concealing himself - but then again, perhaps he'd wanted attention. Definitely not her attention, she realized, but most likely someone else with the same winged creature stretched out across their chest.

Suddenly, there was the faintest click of metal before instincts threw her body to the side. Bullets rattled off the rooftop, and, lightning quick, Cass vaulted herself across air to land with a sweeping kick to where the Red Hood had stood.

She hadn't even needed to think about it. Her body knew, without a doubt, what path it needed to take.

But he was fast too, perhaps not as agile but all the same he'd had training. He leapt back from her kick with a startled laugh. "Fast! Almost got me there, didn't you!" He follows this with a thrust to her face, and Cass leans back, just out of reach before returning it with a slice of her hand that connects with his ribs.

"_Oof_!" The Red Hood dances back, a hand to his side. She can't see his expression but despite his show of pain amusement drips off him like syrup. He did not take her as a threat.

At least not yet, she thought with grim determination.

"Poor _baby bat_, you're in over your head," he snickers and twirls his gun around a finger again. Show off. "Daddy's taught you everything he taught me. You're nothing but the next in line in the grand Bat mass production plant!"

He punctuates this with a blow that catches Cass in the temple. Her head rings, just slightly, but she recovers and dodges, her body weaving in and out between his attacks. She manages to flip away and catches him in the jaw with a neat twist of her foot.

He swears and stumbles back, before shots are fired out again. "Baby bat's got some moves of her own, does she?"

The rain makes the roof slippery, but she is outfitted for such circumstances; boots gripping the surface with surety. Nevertheless, pain; red and white flashes behind her eyes as a bullet grazes her shoulder. He was a good shot, this brother of hers. But bullets were nothing new, not to her. And pain was just another old friend.

Her muscles bunch as she throws herself back at him, dodging most of his bullets and ignoring the ones that manage to find their mark. As fast as she was, the Red Hood was just as adept with his guns and he was good at what he did, too.

"You sure know how to take a shot," he breathes, clutching the side Cass had made sure to hit again and again when she could.

She stood, watching him, her tired pants her only response. He was a formidable opponent. But she'd faced off against much worse, she could keep going if it came down to it.

"What, cat got your tongue?"

When she doesn't reply he sneers, drawing back. "Funny, you remind me of someone... though I didn't think he was one to pick a clone for a sidekick. Always thought he liked the chatty types. Probably keeps him amused. Wonder if he regrets picking someone as boring as you." He ducks in and rushes at her.

Distraction, again. It wouldn't work. Cass catches his punch, the glint of his mask coming up close before her.

"I have to admit, you're starting to put me to sleep!" He growls as they grapple against each other. He is bigger than her, stronger. If strength was all that counted then Cass would be in for some trouble. Luckily, it wasn't.

"You're no fun at all," he continues, his breath showing some strain. He shifts his hold on his gun and swings it into Cass' gut. Pain flares and she reels, just slightly, before discipline and years of training pushes her to hold her ground. Leaning back, she swings her head forward into a resounding _CRASH_ as she rams herself into the mask before her.

He swears, but his grip on her falters. Stars bob and weave before her eyes too, and Cass is quick to scramble away, batarang slipping into her fingers. The minute its released another cry follows, and the gun clatters harmlessly away from his grasp.

"Didn't need that anyway!" The Red Hood rams into her, his body thick and powerful. A man's body, no longer the wiry boy she had seen in the videos. He would never fit into his old robin suit now.

They crash against the hard concrete of the rooftop together, fabric tearing, skin grazing. Cass jabs quick, sharp blows into his abdomen as he seizes her body and crushes her with his weight. He does something she doesn't quite expect and next thing she knows a soft, strangled cry emerges from her throat as a finger cracks.

Pain,_ pain, pain!_ She swallows a whimper away before curling the aching hand in question and, summoning her strength, throws it into his mask. There's a crack as it shatters beneath her bleeding knuckles.

The Red Hood makes a sound of his own before he shakes the mask off and wraps his hands around her throat.

"No more playing!" he growls at her, shaking her like a rabid dog. "This ends now! I don't have time to waste on you!"

His grip is tight, bruising. If she had been anyone else, Cass was certain she would have blacked out in that instant. As it was she was already dizzy, her vision blurring. The face that loomed over her wore an ugly look, shards of his mask still in place.

_Blue eyes_, she noticed, looking up at him. Tim had blue eyes. So did Bruce. And Dick. It was, aesthetically speaking, almost as if they really were related.

How odd, she thought, her fingers scrambling against his as she sought for his pressure points. His hands tightened around her neck, and a soft wheeze slipped between her lips.

Was he going to kill her? He had killed those men tonight, riddled them with bullets and left their bodies in the rain for her to find. He was not afraid of death. He welcomed it as a means to an end. That much was clear.

He was not a Robin. He was not her brother, even if he wore their eyes. Blue eyes. Her brothers, Bruce, Steph, Barbara... they would never kill, never use a gun.

He was a killer.

Black dots skittered before her.

Without another thought, Cass makes another fist, her lungs rattling for air, and breaks his nose before he has time to stop her. There is blood everywhere, mingling with the pouring rain but she doesn't even notice as the bruising grip around her neck eases. Cold, biting air rushes into her lungs like daggers as she gasps with breath.

She seizes the opportunity and escapes his hold, knocking him off of her and staggers to her feet. A batarang from her belt jumps into her palm as she moves away, makes some space.

What was she supposed to do now?

He swears and cusses a torrent of words, reaching up to discard the remains of his mask.

"You," he says, rivulets of blood dripping down his jaw. "You're fast. You didn't learn that from the old Bat, did you?"

This time she waits a beat before a word tumbles out of her mouth before she can stop it. "No."

"Well, aren't you little Miss Chatterbox."

A smile curves her lips, hidden by the tattered fabric of her own mask as she responds. "No."

There's a pause between them as they regard each other. There's a newfound respect in her abilities in him, she can read it in his body. He had been thoughtless before, underestimating her and carelessly engaging her in battle. But he knew now she was more than he'd expected, perhaps even dangerous. She required some thought.

But she'd been pondering him from the very beginning. Cass didn't need more time. She'd learned enough about him, she was here to do a job.

She shifts, sliding a foot forward as she prepares to launch herself at him again.

"Just what do you plan on doing?" the question stops her, as its intended to. As if sensing that this was not something she would answer as easily, the Red Hood pushes on. "You can't or rather won't kill me - are you planning on arresting me? Throwing me into Arkham with the rest of Gotham's resident crazies?" He chuckles at this, his disbelief apparent. "I somehow doubt that."

"I'm here to stop you," she is surprised as her voice, even and deliberate, joins his in dispersing the steady pitter-patter of raindrops. "You killed those men. I cannot allow that."

For a moment she thinks he too can read her body -perhaps even her mind- as his expression mirrors her surprise at her own words. She was more talkative than usual tonight. Usually, words were never necessary - at least not in this line of work. And not when it was Cass.

But it soon becomes apparent that his reaction stems from sheer incredulity at what he must have perceived to be foolish as opposed to any psychic ability on his part. Another bark of laughter, harsh and brassy, escapes him.

Suddenly, his arm twitches and Cass can read his next move before he can so much as reach into his coat pocket. The batarang sails with deadly accuracy as it slices into flesh.

"Goddamnit!" He yanks the steel from his forearm before Cass' heel catches him in the jaw.

It's when her next kick connects that Cass reaches up to tap the tiny device hidden by her ear. It only takes a heartbeat before the voice on the other end responds, despite the late hour.

"Cass? What's up?" Oracle sounds sleepy, but she's alert. Cass never knows if the constant concern hovering in the woman's voice was a good or bad thing.

This time Cass thinks and chooses the words that could convey the entire night's proceedings in a handful of syllables. "Jason. Jason Todd."

"You rang?" The man in question throws a swing, Cass ducking smoothly under his arm to execute another thrust at his belly. Oracle is silent over the earpiece, perhaps letting Cass' words sink in.

"Cass..." Finally, she speaks. She sounds somehow fainter, hesitant. "Are you sure?" Oracle knows that Cass isn't one to make mistakes. Cass is, perhaps, one of the more thorough of the Batman's charges to date. But still... of all the things to come out of her seldom used mouth, it's this name in particular that causes the Oracle to doubt even just for a moment.

"Cass, is it?"

At the sound of her name, Cass' movements still in surprise.

He smiles, finally sensing a change in his opponent's impenetrably stoic demeanor. "Pretty name for a girl."

Cass doesn't even need to voice the question on her mind. He knows. He taps his own ear, shrugging. "Tapped into your communications network. The first thing I did when I hit Gotham. Not hard to do, if you've had as much practice as me. Besides, I've got some intel from an old gig I had. I'm sure you'd know a thing or two about it." His grin turns into a smirk before Cass is forced to spin to the side, dodging another punch.

"Is that Babs on the line?" he continues, pitching his voice a little louder to be audible in her earpiece.

Cass says nothing. There's nothing to say.

Oracle is a different matter. "Jason, you can hear me can't you? Long time no see. Didn't expect you to be back in this old place."

Cass doesn't need to see her to be able to read the shock belying Oracle's casual quip. The fact that Jason had, apparently quite easily, been able to hack into their communications grid was probably giving Barbara nightmares already. The clack of the keyboard in the background seemed to indicate that her friend had already begun working on remedying that security breach.

"Oh, well, figured I'd lend a hand in the fight against crime."

"More like decreasing the criminal population, you mean?"

He chuckles under his breath at this as Cass backflips away and he deflects another batarang.

"A permanent solution. Seeing as no one around here's committed enough to do it..." He's cut short as Cass manages to hook her foot round his heel and twists him off the rooftop. He's heavy, but she'd already had time to adjust to that.

The Red Hood cries out in surprise, grabbing onto the rooftop ledge as his body smacks into the building wall.

"Cass?" Oracle's voice, querying and just a little worried.

"Almost." She responds, trusting in the woman to understand.

"Very well. I've commed Batman and Red Robin." Knowing that he's listening, she adds, "They''ll be seeing you soon too, Jason. Don't let our girl here beat you up so badly that we'll have to use your molars to ID you."

"Fuck that!" He responds, feet digging into the building's side as he scrabbles for purchase.

Cass stands above him, tipping her head in thought. He had sounded angry, yes. But also... amused, laughing, cocky? It's as he turns his glare on her that she stomps her boot down on his fingers with a telling crack.

To his credit, he doesn't even whimper.

"Think you've won now that daddy and big brother are coming to back you up?" His eyes are bright and feverish, the blue of his pupils perhaps in greater contrast now because of all the blood; slashes of red running across his face. "I'll give it to you, you're strong. Fast. Faster than I expected. But you haven't won. Nowhere close, baby bat."

Before she has time to react, the very concrete beneath her feet shudders. There's a hot, white flash before her entire body is engulfed in hot air. The explosion rocks the building and already dust clouds were rising, thick and obscuring.

"_Cass! What was that?_" Oracle's voice in her ear.

She stumbles forward, squinting through the rain and the murky air to make sure the Red Hood was still dangling by the rooftop like she'd left him. He winks at her as she peers over the edge, both hands still gripping, keeping him in place as he swings haphazardly to and fro.

There's no doubt in her mind that this explosion was his doing. He hadn't set it off with a switch, that was certain as his hands had been occupied the whole night. She had made sure of that much.

A timer, then? Perhaps he had another accomplice? No, that didn't seem right. Before she can make her next move, his hand, large and strong, suddenly latches onto her ankle. Next thing she knows she's dragged off the roof, airborne and staring at the long drop before her.

"You finally let your guard down. Big mistake."

She sucks in a breath as his fingers squeeze her ankle in a way that will leave her with more than just bruises.

"It's been fun, _Cass_, but I'm not one for big parties. Especially without my guns, which I have you to thank for. But don't worry. This won't be the last you'll see of me, I'll make sure of it. Say hi to the old man for me, won't you?" And just like that, Cassandra flew.

The air is cold, whipping past her face and stinging her eyes. The earth, black and gray, looms and expands, filling her world. But Cass is quick. She was always quick. Without wasting another second, she fumbles with her utility belt and pulls out the grappling hook folded neatly in its pouch. Wrapping the cord around her shattered fingers, she flings its other end blindly out into the night until a sharp jerk brings her crashing into brick and mortar.

"Cass!"

It's Tim. They really hadn't wasted time getting here.

She dangles in mid air panting for a moment before someone tugs at the other end of her line and she is lifted up, up, up. As soon as she's on another more intact rooftop, arms encircle her. There is relief in the gesture. Comfort. Warmth. Family.

"Cass, you ok?" He sounds concerned, doesn't even bother to hide it. He looks at her face before gently beginning to examine her limbs. "Babs told us... about what happened. About who you met."

"Jason Todd-?" her voice comes out in a croak, dust caking her tongue.

Tim is still for a moment, looking up from the shredded skin of her fingertips to gaze at her thoughtfully. "What was he like?" he finally says.

The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

"Like family."


End file.
